


Snapshots II

by flaming_muse



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-09
Updated: 2013-10-09
Packaged: 2017-12-28 21:19:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt and Blaine have plenty of conversations via text, but sometimes they just send each other pictures from their days. Here are some more of them.</p>
<p>spoilers through 5x02 (“Tina in the Sky with Diamonds”), no spoilers beyond</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snapshots II

**Author's Note:**

> I have no real ability for the visual arts, so there are only word pictures here. Song lyrics from The Beatles.
> 
> Last year after the second episode of season four I wrote a little fic about the kinds of ordinary pictures Kurt and Blaine might text each other, the visual minutiae of their day that they choose to share with the other. ([“Snapshots”](http://archiveofourown.org/works/521647)) I was inspired to revisit this idea with the same sort of fic after the second episode of season five.

(“Come on, guys, be serious,” Blaine says, holding out the camera at arm’s length with Tina and Sam flanking him on the cafeteria bench; he can see in the screen that they’re making weird faces. “I want this to look good.” He wants Kurt to see he’s okay, that he’s happy. Not that them goofing off doesn’t also say happy, but he kind of wants Kurt to want to look at the picture and smile and miss him a little, not be turned off by a silly face.

“Sorry,” Tina says, and she schools her expression back to something more normal.

“Marlon Brando is always serious,” Sam says in his _Godfather_ voice, his brow still furrowed in his impression. “I’m gonna make him a picture he can’t refuse.”

Blaine’s pretty sure it’s the best he’s going to get. He looks straight into the camera as intensely as he can and clicks the button.)

[image] Blaine, Tina, and Sam’s faces, Tina smiling, Blaine smouldering, and Sam mid-word, the busy cafeteria behind them.

_French bread pizza day is serious business._

*

(Kurt glances around the office before he scoops up the piece of glossy photo paper that just came out of the good printer and immediately tucks it deep inside the stack of work papers he’s carrying. He holds them tightly as he delivers Sophie’s messages and checks in on Isabelle before trotting back to his desk. The phone is ringing, he has six new e-mails marked urgent, and it’s another ten minutes before he can retrieve the picture he printed using work supplies that are definitely higher quality than he should be employing for personal use.

He slides it out of the pile and knows the risk of being slapped on the wrist is worth it. Blaine looks _incredible_ thanks to the vibrant inks and sharp clarity of that printer. He’d look incredible, anyway, but he looks extra perfect when Kurt can see details like the curl of the pale petals of his boutonniere and the warmth in his eyes.

He looks absolutely dreamy.

Kurt smiles at the picture as he finds a place for it, feeling his heart flutter in a way he hasn’t let it in a while just to look on Blaine’s handsome face.)

[image] A picture of Blaine in his prom tuxedo, carefully tacked to the wall beside Kurt’s computer monitor.

_My favorite new formalwear model. He’s bound to become the toast of Vogue.com._

*

(Blaine anxiously checks his watch as he waits in line at the Lima Bean. He’s cutting it so close to getting to school on time, but his parents’ coffee grinder broke this morning, and if he doesn’t have some caffeine he isn’t even going to make it through the first two periods of the day. He needs his jolt every day, but he’d been up extra late Skyping with Kurt - not even talking about anything in particular but simply enjoying being able to do it again without all of the complicated undercurrents that had swirled around them for months - and he feels like his brain is about two minutes behind the rest of him, like the video and sound in his head are out of sync.

Smiling to himself at the memory of Kurt’s voice going scratchy with sleep and yet neither of them being ready to stop talking, Blaine knows he wouldn’t even mind feeling like he’s lagging if he’d just been able to make a cup of coffee at home.

He takes another step forward as the line inches ahead and checks the time again.)

[image] A paper Lima Bean cup with ‘Blaine’ scrawled on it in black marker, sitting in the cup holder of his car.

_I bet you could use one, too. <3_

*

(Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Kurt stumbles out of his bedroom to find the bathroom door closed and Santana standing next to the door with a towel over her crossed arms, looking murderous.

Rachel’s singing in the shower reaches new heights of pitch and operatic flourish, Santana pounds her fist on the door, and Kurt sighs and goes back into his room to check his e-mail while he waits.)

[image] A poorly lit shot from across the apartment of Rachel and Santana gesturing angrily at each other in the bathroom doorway.

_Morning traffic jam._

*

(Blaine opens the box with some trepidation; packages from Cooper are always exciting, but after that time one of them had held a dozen live chicks he has become wary of what Cooper might consider appropriate to send him.

Inside the box is a smaller rectangular package wrapped in shiny gold paper, and on top is a card that reads in Cooper’s effusive scrawl: “Congratulations on your engagement, Blainey! I knew as soon as Kurt said he had my commercial as his ringtone that he was a keeper.”)

[image] A half-unwrapped box of Cuban cigars in a cloud of gold wrapping paper.

_Cooper says congratulations. :) Unfortunately they aren’t chocolate. :(_

*

(Kurt sits in the little NYADA courtyard for a few minutes after he finishes his lunch. The sun is warm on his face, the flowers in the small but verdant border buzzing with bees, and he feels as filled with new life as the season around him does. It was a long winter, long months of being pulled in and focusing on surviving, and as much as he weathered that time with what he likes to think of as grace and an openness to new experiences he’s happy to be back in an internal season of plenty again.

He’s happy to feel happy down to his core.

A sparrow hops down the stone wall toward him, cheeping its curiosity - or maybe its demand - and Kurt stretches out his legs in the sunlight and tosses it a few crumbs.)

[image] A border of mixed types of yellow and orange flowers beyond a low stone wall, with a paper coffee cup and a small brown bird perched upon it.

_Tuesday lunch date._

*

(Blaine clatters down the staircase by the courtyard on his way to English and stops for a second at the landing to let a crowd of underclassmen pass by him. He smiles at them, despite their poor stairway manners, because as the head of student government he likes to make everyone feel welcome in the school.

As they walk by, though, he is struck as he is always struck by all of the history he has on this stairway: confronting Karofsky, getting flowers from Kurt, singing and parting and later singing and reuniting in a sea of marching musicians just over there on the other side of the chain link wall...

He takes a shallow breath in realization. Unlike how he’s felt most of this school year, it doesn’t hurt to remember Kurt here anymore. It doesn’t hurt at all.

Blaine’s smile warms and becomes more personal as he ducks his head and heads off to his class.)

[image] The McKinley courtyard on a sunny day, filled with students.

*

(Kurt drops his dance bag at the edge of the room and shakes out his shoulders. He rolls his neck and stretches his arms back, trying to loosen up a little and get rid of some of the tension he feels. He’s got to get every step, gesture, and extension right today. He can’t get sloppy. It’s going to count toward his final grade.

He might have missed too many classes, though, being away. He lost some of his concentration, missed so much instruction.

But, he reminds himself, it was all worth it. His dad, Blaine... It was worth it.

Shaking his shoulders out again, Kurt takes a deep breath and tells himself to get over his concerns. He knows what he’s doing. He was born to do this... and what he wasn’t born to do he will darn well make up with with hard work. He’s got this.)

[image] The NYADA dance studio, empty, a partial reflection of Kurt in dance clothes in one of the mirrors across the room.

_The calm before the storm._

*

(Blaine sets down his cookie and cup and pulls off his school bag over his head before he sits down at the table. It was a long rehearsal this afternoon; Mr. Schuester seems to be taking the road to Nationals more seriously this year than last, which is great... apart from Blaine’s sore legs. He should ask Kurt for his advice on new stretches he’s learned in college.

“Oh, they made a design today!” Tina says as she takes off the lid of her latte. “I love that!”

“That barista is totally into you,” Artie tells her. “Saw him checking you out the whole way over here.”

“Please, he’s four feet tall,” Kitty says with a roll of her eyes as she sips her own drink. “His mom probably has to drive him here. Tina can do way better than some coffee shop loser.”

“Don’t mock a man who can hook us all up with free cookies,” Artie says.

Blaine peers into Tina’s cup and then over at the guy behind the counter. Unfortunately, he looks like he’s fifteen, kind of pimply and awkward. But he’s probably very nice, Blaine thinks, and Tina deserves someone special. He doesn’t want to judge. And he doesn’t think he should bring up how poorly Kitty treated Kurt last fall when he was working here, not if they want to have a pleasant afternoon together.

“He did a really nice job with your coffee, Tina,” he says as he pulls out his phone to grab a picture for Kurt, the best he can do since he can’t surprise him with a coffee with a design of his own right now. “I think it’s sweet.”)

[image] A latte foam heart from above.

*

(Kurt wipes his face with a towel and sits back hard on his heels after he shuts off the workout video. His whole body hurts, and his abs are shaking. He’s not sure he wants to have a perfect stomach if he’s going to be in this much pain through the process.

The things he does for fashion... and for making Blaine’s eyes go dark when he gets Kurt’s shirt off.)

[image] Kurt’s head and shoulders, his hair damp and messy, his face still flushed, his arm holding the phone above him left bare by his tank top.

_I’m considering letting myself go now that we’re engaged. That new ab workout was torture._

*

(Blaine startles awake from his unexpected nap at the blare of a car horn outside. He blinks for a second, confused about why he’s in his bedroom at all when he was sure he was in New York. He was with Kurt, though the specifics are slipping away with each breath, and he’s hard, his body throbbing, his hands straining across the covers for a body that isn’t there, that’s states and states away.

He lies there on his bed for a moment, wanting, hurting, tormenting himself by remembering the magic of Kurt’s always amazing kisses and touches, and wishing he and Kurt had had more time to reconnect after their engagement. They have so much to re-learn about each other, and it all means so much more now.

He wants to do everything all over again and try everything they never got to do.

Blaine just _wants_ Kurt, wants to touch every inch of his body, every hard muscle and soft bit of skin, every secret place. Blaine wants to map him out and see him, be seen, enjoy him and be enjoyed, be _them_ instead of separate, wrapped up in each other and in love.

Blaine wants Kurt in a deep, visceral way that makes his blood pump in his veins at the thought of being naked together, nothing at all keeping them apart, nothing to stop them from being as close as they want to be, and he doesn’t want to have to wait.

He takes a slow breath and squirms a little on the mattress, trying to take the edge off of his desires. He flumps his head on the pillow. It doesn’t really help, but it’s all he has.

He doesn’t want to wait, but he has to.)

[image] Blaine’s face, resting on the pillow on his side, looking directly into the camera with a slightly sad expression, his free hand lying between the lens and his mouth.

_I guess I fell asleep..._

*

(There’s a lull at the diner around nine at night; most people have already had their dinner, but the post-theater crowd hasn’t gotten out yet.

Kurt leans against the counter and looks across the room and out the windows at the bustling New York night beyond the relatively quiet restaurant. He should probably be filling salt shakers or pulling Santana and Dani out of the supply closet before Gunther catches them making out on their break again, but instead he just looks at the pedestrians and feels his heart leap at the sight of every dark-haired, clean-shaven young man that walks in a blur beyond the glass.

“Everything okay?” Rachel asks him as she sweeps past with some dirty dishes.

“Mmm,” he replies, because he knows it’s silly to be missing Blaine somewhere he’s never even been. This is still Kurt’s city, and he’s happy here. He doesn’t need Blaine for that.

Still, a part of him just can’t wait until Blaine will walk through that door, to smile at him from a booth, to pick him up after work, maybe even to put on his own uniform and perform duets with Kurt every single night.)

[image] A white towel, an order pad, a pen, and a name tag that says Kurt, all laid out neatly on a dark countertop.

_Tools of the trade._

*

(Blaine loads the dishwasher after dinner and looks out the window over the sink as he rinses out a serving dish. It’s still light out, the air coming through the cracked window cool at this time of day but smelling of leaves and flowers, not yet summer but edging in that direction. The school year is almost over. High school is almost over. His life is really beginning. He feels excitement brimming inside of him, as ready to bloom as the flowers.

He’s aware that there are a lot of questions that should be making him feel uneasy. He doesn’t know if Kurt’s coming home when the semester ends. He doesn’t know for sure that he’ll be joining Kurt in New York for college, either. He doesn’t know yet exactly where he’s going or what he’s going to be doing. There’s still so much in the air.

But still, somehow, after graduation, his life is absolutely going to have Kurt in it. It will. That much, at least, is not in question.

Putting the last plate into the rack and shutting the door, Blaine leans against the sink and smiles out at the orange and pink sky.

He’s going to get to have his whole life with Kurt.)

[image] A sunset over the tops of trees in Blaine’s backyard.

*

(Kurt walks by a little consignment shop every day on his way to the subway. He pretty much gave up on it the first month of living in New York when he realized that its contents were more suited for a picked-over flea market table than a store in the most fashionable city in the world, but he always looks in the window at its newest items, just in case.

There’s a new ring in the jewelry part of the display, the silver tarnished in such a way that the engraved ivy design stands out. It’s not fine enough work to be pretty, but it’s something different. It stands out to him in the rest of the cheap clutter.

He’s drawn to it, drawn to a simple circle of metal in a way he never has been before.

Humming a little to himself, he rubs his thumb thoughtfully over the profile of Blaine’s ring on his finger - _his_ ring now, _theirs_ \- and then walks on, his head filled with more rings to come, rings that will mean forever and designs that will have to look good on Blaine’s hand for that long.)

[image] Two kinds of ivy, one paler than the other, curling up the brick wall of a building, woven through each other and growing together, with the subway entrance sign almost out of the frame to the left.

*

(“Okay, guys, great job. Let’s take a ten minute break,” Mr. Schuester says, and Blaine drops down on the piano bench as most of New Directions disperses around the choir room. He runs through a few chords along with the song in his head, humming along quietly. He should probably feel guilty that it isn’t the song they’re practicing in Glee, but he’s got that one down. This is the one that’s driving him right now.

This is the one he wants to sing to Kurt.

Sam talks to one of the guys in the band for a second and then comes over to sit beside Blaine, guitar in hand. “You ready? If we shoot it now, we can do it right here before everyone comes back.”

Blaine perks up as Artie wheels over. “That would be great. Thanks, guys!”

“No problem,” Sam says, getting the guitar into position. “The harmonies sound awesome.”

Artie lifts up his phone and pushes a few buttons. “Aaaand, action.”)

[video] A tight close-up of Blaine looking at the camera with Sam in profile by his side, Sam playing the guitar and them both singing the first verse of “Love Me Do”: “Love, love me do. You know I love you. I’ll always be true. So please, please, love me do.”

*

[image] Kurt curled on the couch with his legs under him, a mug held against his chest, a soft smile on his face as he looks at his phone in his other hand.

Rachel to Blaine: _Thought you might like to see his reaction._

*

(Kurt sweeps his privacy curtain closed, though it unfortunately doesn’t drown out the continuing sound of Rachel’s teasing laughter, and stalks over to sit on his bed. Then he watches the video again, his heart pounding at the sound of Blaine’s wonderful voice, the smile on his face, and the love in his eyes as well as his words.

Blaine. His sweet, talented, ridiculous _fiance_.)

[image] Kurt’s left hand spread across his jean-clad thigh, the ring on his finger bright against the dark denim.

_I would have thought this would have been answer enough._

[video] Kurt’s face, his bedroom wall behind him, softly singing “She Loves You” directly to camera: “He said you hurt him so, he almost lost his mind. But now he said he knows, you’re not the hurting kind.... He loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah...”

_In case you wanted a more direct answer. <3_

*

(In his room at home, Blaine sits cross-legged on his bed and plays the snippet of song again, and again, and again, drowning in Kurt’s voice and his gorgeous face and the remembered visual of the ring on his finger, which he is pretty sure is _always_ going to send sparks up his spine, because Kurt is _his_. They’re each other’s. It makes him feel warm and solid, effervescent but somehow grounded in a way that’s new and wonderful. He’d always felt centered by Kurt’s love before they broke up, but it’s even more now sure, more real.

He picks up his phone to take a picture of his smile, to share his response in return... and then he just shakes his head, clicks on his contacts list, and calls Kurt instead.)

“I love you, too,” he says when Kurt picks up, because it’s the most important thing, even if it comes out like they’re in the middle of a conversation; he supposes they kind of were, in their own way. “So much.”

“I know you do, Blaine,” Kurt replies easily, fondly, right there with him. “That’s why I said yes. Well, that and my inability to say no to an offer made by a man in a blazer on that staircase.” He lets out an airy laugh. “We all have our weaknesses.”

Blaine can hear the contented smile in Kurt’s voice and feels it curl all the way down into his own toes. He wishes he could see it in person, too, but this is good enough for now. They won’t be apart for all that long.

It’s just the start of their lives together, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I am unspoiled! Please do not spoil me for anything coming ahead in the show!


End file.
